Tuesday, the new Monday

Being funny when I feel like this requires more discipline than I possess, so my apologies in advance. Consider this a somber blog.

A not good thing happened early this morning; a relative died. While we were not very close, they were a real class act and cornered the market on kindness. They were the kind of person that makes the world a better place and shall be missed by many people, including myself.

One thing I remember about them, was that they were a soft touch when it came to my parent’s foxhound.

Mom: Lois, did you give your breakfast to the dog again?
Lois: Just the corners. She looked so little and hungry.
Mom: But we had pancakes.

Godspeed Lois Bradley. May you find the eternal peace and comfort you so richly deserve.

13 Going on 30

Tis the season for lots of comedies aimed at teens yet with stories broad enough to snag the adult market. 13 Going on 30 fits that bill to a T.

This is the tale of the girl who wanted everything only find what she wanted was what she had to give up. One minute our heroine is 13 trying to be cool, the next she is 30 and the epitome of cool, but all alone. Sort of Freaky Fridayish only she switches places with herself at different points in her life.

Side point, is the 80’s nostalgia movement absolutely horrifying or is it just me? Fashion was wack back then and it looks like fricking alien skin by today’s standards. Neon alien skin with pure Aquanet hair no less.

Anyway, it’s basically a lighthearted film. To say it was a romantic comedy would be a reach because the humor was more sweet than funny.

Three good things about the movie:

1) Jennifer Garner. On a scale of 1 to 10 she’s an 11.

2) The average guy next door got a chance at the hot chick. That gives us all hope.

3) The pacing and delivery was good.

Three bad things:

1) A little light in the laugh department, but the jokes didn’t fall flat so no big deal.

2) Jennifer Garner had to act 13. That made me feel awkward watching her at points.

3) Part of the movie was set in the 1980’s.

My vote – matinee it. It’s worth DVD if you catch the right sale, but it will work just fine on cable or video too.

Troy

Despite the hype machine, I braved Troy this weekend. Let me explain a few things about my love/hate relationship with period pieces. Unless the backdrop of the period piece is the Roman Empire, WWII or the 1920’s, I hate them. But reading that they spent 200 million dollars to make Troy and that it offered a chance to see how little fat was left on Brad Pitt’s body proved too powerful a lure to resist. Besisdes, the wife had free movies passes.

It’s true, Brad Pitt was in the physical condition of his life. Unfortunately, the director and screenwriters were not. The story was convoluted and loaded with weak characters. Now honestly, all that does not necessarily a bad movie make. Had the plot been less mediocre, it might have slid by. Alas the plot is but a single slice of Swiss cheese left at the feet of crazed field mice.

The direction was choppy and the editing looked like it was done in the back of a 1969 Dodge Charger on Memorial Day Weekend. At points the frames of film shook. Literally.

Three good things about Troy:

1) Helen was cute. She might not launch a thousand ships, but she can launch at least one cruise missile.

2) The recreation of the mythical Troy was believable ( trust me – it looks good ).

3) Brad Pitt is the new Terminator.

Three bad things about Troy:

1) The director.

2) The editor.

3) The screenwriter.

I didn’t dislike this movie but I didn’t like it enough to recommend paying full price. Matinee or video rental this one.

Ouch

A relative celebrated her birthday in the city ( the city being NYC ) last night and the entire affair was one long Twilight Zone moment. Things happen in the city that just don’t anywhere else.

The story begins at the Sweet and Vicious bar, which is, well I don’t really know where it is. Somewhere near Spring Street. Don’t quote me on that. It had a small outdoor lounge with benches and a trace of greenery and they allowed smoking until 11 pm and the waitress kept bringing Corona long necks with lime wedges. I’m pretty sure I paid for them. In the corner of the outdoor lounge there was a painter’s ladder that led to nowhere.

Next thing I know it’s 2am we’re eating brick oven pizza and listening to a man roughly 109 years old playing a glass top piano. As he pumped the ivory keys, a black cat rolled around on top grooving to Frank Sinatra and an upright bass. There was a line of about 9 girls waiting to pat the all black kitty with yellow eyes. 9 girls and me.

Flash ahead to 3:30 AM. For some reason I’m arguing with someone about the value of public education on the PATH train.

Now it’s 6PM the next day, and my head just stopped feeling like a crushed pineapple smoothie.

I should’ve stopped at the 3rd Corona.